


You’re not from New York City, you’re from Rotherham

by rose_lighters



Category: Descendants (2015), Disney - All Media Types, The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Relationships, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Melanie Martinez songs, Multi, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_lighters/pseuds/rose_lighters
Summary: Abandoned after certain things have come to light about the singer these are based on.





	1. Crybaby, Audrey

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter will take approx 2 minutes and 49 seconds of your time; take that how you wish. All feedback, whether negative or positive, would be appreciated greatly.  
> This is short, I will admit but Audrey is a very difficult character to write for. I apologise.

Audrey was crying. Again. This was old news around Auradon Prep by this point, it was accepted that she was just sensitive and would cry a lot. Her cheeks were red and puffy, eyes bloodshot and nose runny but she didn’t even attempt to hide it. She cried like a princess, all soft sobs into a lacy handkerchief with no loud ugly sobs and she certainly didn’t pull any ugly faces unlike most people. It was fortunate she was a pretty crier considering how often she was found crying somewhere. 

“Are you okay?” Asked Jane as she comforted her. She nodded waving off the plump girl. 

“I-I’m f-f-fine.” Sobbed Audrey. “Just being silly, really”

She didn’t want to admit that she was still crying over Ben, who had dumped her three months ago. She had passed the place they had had their first kiss and it all had come back to her, how much she loved him and how good he had been to her. 

“Crybaby…” She heard as a group of girls walked passed, obviously talking about her. She cried harder, wishing their was a way to stop how easily upset she got by others’ words, sad films, cute puppies, babies and pretty much anything that can make anyone cry, like ever.

She used to never get as many mean comments about her sensitive ways back when she was dating Ben. She had been head cheerleader and her mother’s name had demanded respect among her peers but once those dratted villain kids had arrived it was as if the world had been turned upside down. Now she was seen as incredibly childish for crying so much and had lost her place as head cheerleader making her even more likely to cry. It wasn’t her fault. It was as if she had a river behind her eyes and she tried to act like a damn but was really bloody awful at it so she cried all the time. Her mother had encouraged her letting out her feelings as a child but that had led to her being even worse. 

Some days she tried to hide it, acted like a bitch in the hopes that the bitter anger she felt would stop her from crying but all it lead to was her crying alone in her dorm later, though not regretting her words she did hate the confrontation it lead to. She knew that made people's reactions to her crying even worse because how dare that bitch cry when she make everyone else live in misery. Ben used to comfort her perfectly. He’d hold her as she cried then he’d tell her he loved her before trying to cheer her up. He was naturally funny so it never did take him long to turn her tears of sorrow into tears of mirth. 

“Why do you cry so much?” He had once asked her.

She had turned to face him, staring at his moonlit face and smiled softly at him. She reached out and rested his hand on his cheek.

“I feel things to harshly, I guess I’m just odd.” She felt the choking feeling she got before she began crying, she never could explain it without tearing up. He bought her into a hug and she swore she would never be more in love with anyone as much as she was Ben in that moment.

Times like that were over though. She had lost all her friends due to their ignorance and oversight when looking at the Ilse children. It was as if she was the only one smart enough to see how horrible they were, especially Mal who had poisoned Ben before publically humiliating her in front of the entire school. 

Well she didn’t care, if her friends were stupid enough to believe whatever lies Mal told them about being good now then they deserved what they got. She didn’t care, sure she had cried at the time but she did not care, she wouldn’t sink that low. It wasn’t her who was wrong, it was them. Besides they never had understood her and she was fine with that, really she was. She was okay with being different, it got lonely sure but they’d come crawling back to her when they realised she was right. She didn’t care if she cried all the time, if they called her cry baby it was their problem not hers. One day she’d show them all. And with that thought her tears grew to laughs, bordering on hysterical, she knew she was a crybaby but so what?


	2. Dollhouse, Evie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone thinks that we're perfect  
> Please don't let them look through the curtains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Approx reading time: 3:43  
> Almost a full minute longer than the last though not half as long as I'd wished. I seem to struggle making these not drabbles and rather short stories. I really need to work on that, we'll see if I succeed in 11 stories time. Shit, I have eleven left

“You’re home life is perfect, Evie.” Mal told the blue haired girl. “I’d kill for a life like that.”

Evie thought back to her home where she knew her mother was passed out after taking unknown pills with any booze she happened to have found, most likely the moonshine that Oogie Boogie had sold to her for a night in her bed. Evie had spent that night avoiding her home like the plague.

 

“Yeah, it’s great.” Evie rested her hand on Mal’s arm for a second, as if apologizing for her friends Mother.

 

Her mother had always insisted on keeping up appearances, not just physical but in terms of society as well. The Evil Queen had been very good at this, proven by her relations with her ex-husband who had been a king, and expected Evie to do the same. Evie didn’t need to lie to her associates to convince them that her life was great in comparison to theirs, it was. Her mother loved her and she had inherited great beauty from the woman, whilst a villain the Queen’s expectations laid more in being charming than in actually being evil. If she left out the substance abuse that her mother engaged in it seemed as if the Isle itself was her only issue.

 

It was obvious from the time they were little that Evie had priorities far different from those of the other children her own age. She had always worn a full face of makeup and had never gone to school with the others as her mum had home schooled her, hoping it’d make the Princes in Auradon assume Evie hadn’t been taught how to be evil at all. This was true, she had never had classes in being evil but she had learnt to be sneaky in order to survive the Isle.

 

Her mother got more mad at her if her makeup had smudged than if she hadn’t managed to get food from them so she had learnt how to quickly touch up makeup after claiming all the healthy food she could, fatty food had been forbidden as they made her breakout (though she had never tried it, her mother said this was true) and she had to be perfect.

The Evil Queen had never wanted a daughter, she couldn’t care for one, didn’t know how. The only experience she had was with Snow White and she had never had to be around her for too long. When Evie was a baby her mother was totally lost but Evie was soon seen as a beloved doll in her mother’s eyes.

 

Evie learnt how to make dresses and clothes that were often designed by her or her mother but before she knew how her mother would make them and dress up her human doll. Evie had been to young to remember this but as she grew up and her mum drunk more she found herself being called “meine puppe”. This hadn’t bothered her until she had asked the de Vil boy what it meant and he revealed that it was german for “my doll”. She hadn’t been shocked at the fact that that was what her mother saw her has but she wished that her mother could love her as a person and not as a toy.

 

Over the years she had learnt to appreciate what she did have which was a mother who cared about her enough to not wish harm upon her which was far more than what most kids on the Isle had. Sure she had to hide how she really felt about her mother’s drinking, drugs and promiscuity that bordered on flat out prostitution. If others found out they’d only use it against her as that’s how things were on the Isle. 

 

So she made sure to smile prettily and to flirt just enough to stay interesting but not quite enough to be slutty, she became close associates with the most influential child on the Isle but made sure not even she knew the truth of what actually went on behind closed doors in her house. After all it wasn’t proper to drink so much you slept next to your bed was it?

 

Years later, after she left the isle, Evie realized that her life wasn’t half as good as she had believed in to be at the time. Being surrounded by those whose lives were actually good rather than just saying they were good had opened her eyes to how bad things really had been for her all those years on the isle. Apparently living with an addict who with held meals from her if she believed Evie was getting a little less skinny wasn’t a good home life.

Unlike the other Isle kids she never did get nightmares but at times she’d catch a glimpse in the mirror and had to convince herself it wasn’t porcelain that she saw in the place of skin. She had to try hard to remember she was human, that she wasn’t her mother’s plaything.

Only Doug would know of this, he assured her she wasn’t being petty or selfish and that what her mother did in the search for perfection was as bad as Evie thought it was. He would make sure to complement who she was before how she appeared. When they had children many years later they bought their daughter a dollhouse to play with but they didn’t let her have makeup till she was a teenager and made sure she knew that they loved her for her because the two had learnt from the mistakes that the Evil Queen had made. Evie had to learn how to see herself as herself and how to let down all the walls that she had built around herself without noticing.

It was true though, her home life was perfect by Isle standards and no one ever knew what went on behind the curtains. She saw it from eyes that no one else could see through. She saw what no one else saw.


End file.
